


Take a Breath

by lilrenthefox



Category: Justified
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilrenthefox/pseuds/lilrenthefox
Summary: Markham and his men want to send a message to the Marshals to back off of them, they do so by having Choo-Choo make Raylan into a trainwreck.  Tim goes on the hunt with an unlikely accomplice to put the bad men behind bars.This is a fic where Raylan is Raylan, Tim is a badass, and Art is the father that watches over them.
Relationships: Raylan Givens/Original Female Character, Raylan Givens/Tim Gutterson, raylan givens/tim gutterson/original female character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Homiless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homiless/gifts).



Chapter 1

There was something about the way his breath hitched that made Art’s stomach turn. He’d been there when Raylan had woke up in the hospital after the shootout in front of Mag’s house, but this was different.  
His face twisted and he grit his teeth, even with the hefty round of narcotics the staff tending to him had pumped into his system he still hurt and Art knew it. Tim shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily, he’d been the one to find Raylan in that hell hole. Someone was after him, someone wanted his partner dead; but first they wanted him to suffer. Raylan was half dead when Tim had gotten to him, he’d lost so much blood his lips were blue and his eyes had glazed.  
Raylan groaned and squirmed as he woke. “Where am I?” he slurred.  
“Safe, at the hospital,” Tim put a gentle hand on his chest to keep him from sitting up.  
“How…?” Raylan licked his lips.  
“Im gonna kill the sonuvabitch that hurt you,” Tim sat on the edge of the bed.  
“I can’t remember,” Raylan said weakly.  
“Understandable,” Tim said. “You’re on a lot of meds.”  
“Thank you.” Raylan couldn’t remember what happened yet, but he was sure that Tim had saved his life. His head pounded and his body ached, he touched his fingertips to his forehead and was met with a bandage.  
“Take it easy,” Tim soothed. “You’ve been through a lot.”  
“Do you remember anything, son?” Art asked.  
“No,” Raylan said.  
“It’ll come back,” Tim reassured him. “Doctor said you have a pretty bad head injury.”  
A large man with a short beard reared one of the biggest fists Raylan had ever seen, as it connected with his jaw his vision blurred. Choo-Choo hit him again and again while Markham looked on, something about sending a message. Raylan was too exhausted and in too much pain to remember more, he was reminded of the time Dicky Bennett had strung him up by his foot and beat the hell out of him with a baseball bat. Boyd, of all people, had come to his rescue. This time there was no one to save him, no one at the office knew he was missing. He choked as he swallowed a mouthful of blood, “Fuck. You.”  
Raylan jolted at the memory. Tim there steadying him, “I’m guessing you remember.”  
“A little,” Raylan said. He pulled the blanket away from his chest and saw a mass of gauze, two drainage tubes protruded from his torso. One drain in his chest and another in his side below his ribs, “God, what’d they do to me?”  
“A lot,” Tim sighed. “Your leg’s broken so don’t go tryin’ to get up.”  
“It hurts,” Raylan winced.  
“I’m sure it does,” Art said. “Do you remember anything that might help us?”  
Raylan felt himself falling back to sleep. “Choo-choo,” he uttered before his eye-lids fell shut.  
“Does that mean anything to you, or is he losing his shit?” Art asked Tim.  
“He’d told me before he ran into a real big guy that said his name was Choo-Choo. He threatened Raylan before.”  
“Sounds like someone needs to pay him a visit,” Art said.  
“I’m on it,” Tim didn’t want to leave Raylan, but catching the people who’d tortured him would give everyone peace of mind. “Boss?”  
“Yes, son, I’ll stay here with him,” Art squeezed his arm. “Doctor said he’d recover.”  
“He looks like shit,” Tim said.  
“Yeah, he’s got a long recovery ahead but he’ll pull through.”  
“I’m gonna get these assholes,” Tim said though he knew Raylan couldn’t’ hear him.  
“You’d better bring back up,” Art said. “I don’t want you in the room next to Raylan’s.”  
“Yes sir,” Tim saluted.  
Art settled in the chair next to Raylan’s bed, moving it as close as he could in case Raylan woke up panicked. Nobody liked hospitals, but Raylan had a hatred for them unlike anything he’d ever seen. He’d seen the bruising on Raylan’s chest when the nurse had come in to clean the drains and check the tubing, and he gently pulled the oxygen mask over Raylan’s nose and mouth. Raylan stirred, mumbling something Art couldn’t understand. “Just to help you breathe better, son. I’m stayin’ with you.”  
“Thanks,” he said softly, the mask clouding with his breath. Though he’d never say it out loud, both men knew Raylan looked at Art like a father. As his hand searched for some comfort, Art tried to avoid the IV as he put his hand in Raylan’s. He’d pull through, he always did, but something about his demeanor this time made Art uneasy. For the first time, Raylan was scared.  
—————  
Tim hauled his gear out to his car, checking every firearm he owned before putting the duffle bag in the trunk. He knew Raylan was safe with Art, and anger burned in his gut. When he’d found Raylan he thought he was dead. There was too much blood, he wasn’t sure how Raylan had survived everything they’d put him through. His torture was supposed to send a message, and it had done its job. Tim had definitely gotten a message, he knew going after Markham and his men was exactly what they wanted. He was walking into a trap, but he planned to go in prepared. He made the two hour drive to Harlan, and by the time he pulled into the driveway his blood rushed in his ears.  
“Boyd!” Tim called.  
“Deputy Gutterson, now what do I owe this pleasant surprise to?”  
“You know why the hell I’m here,” Tim growled.  
Boyd ran a hand through wild hair, “No, son, I can’t say I do.”  
“Raylan’s in the hospital,” Tim said.  
“I haven’t seen my good friend Raylan in quite—“  
“No, asshole, I don’t think you put him in there; but I know who did, and you’re gonna help me find them.”  
“Pardon?” Boyd licked his lips.  
“Markham wants us off his ass,” Tim said. “So, he had his guys beat the shit out of Raylan to send a message.”  
“Is he all right?” Boyd’s brows furrowed, concerned.  
“No! No, he’s not all right, Boyd! His chest was almost crushed, every rib is broken on his right side, his knee is almost destroyed, and he has two breaks in his pelvis. He may never fuckin’ walk again!” Tim felt his eyes burning, but he wouldn’t shed a single tear in front of Boyd of all people. “Not to mention the head injury and the countless cuts all over him, they fuckin’ bled him on top of everything.”  
“Now, Tim, may I call you Tim?” Tim nodded. “Tim, I know you want revenge for your partner; and I can help you get it, but my way doesn’t walk the straight and narrow.”  
“I don’t give two shits at the moment, I need back up and your name is already all over this.”  
“So, you’re not gonna throw me in irons for anything I gotta do while I’m with you?” Boyd raised an eyebrow. “I am a man of God, and in the good book it’s written ‘vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord’; but sometimes I think he uses people to carry it out, and I am hoping—“  
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim snapped. “How does Raylan deal with your long-winded ass? Just get your shit and get in the car.”  
—————  
Raylan’s eyes snapped open, he gasped in a breath as panic rose in his chest. “Raylan,” Art sat by him, putting a hand on each of his shoulders.  
“I—I remember,” Raylan wheezed. “Tim…you can’t let him go.”  
“He’s already left, Raylan,” Art said.  
“Call him,” Raylan’s throat was dry. “It’s a trap.”  
“I’m sure he knows that, he promised he was bringing back up,” Art reassured him.  
“He’d better bring a damn SWAT team,” Raylan said.  
There was a knock at the door, Raylan jumped and grit his teeth at the sudden movement. “Probably a doctor,” Art said.  
“Mr. Givens?” a slender woman entered with a clipboard.  
“It’s Raylan,” Raylan said, “Mr. Givens was my piece of shit daddy.”  
“You’ll have to forgive him,” Art snickered. “He’s a little rough around the edges.”  
“That’s all right,” the woman smiled. “I’m Dr. Michelle Fox. I’m a physical therapist here at St. Francis, and I’d like to take a look at him.”  
“Hurts too bad,” Raylan said.  
“Good thing I’m not here to hurt you then,” Michelle wasn’t taking no for an answer.  
“Please,” Raylan protested.  
“Raylan, let the woman do her job,” Art said sternly. He turned to Michelle, “It’s like I’m babysitting.”  
“People in pain can be quite stubborn, good thing I am too. Oh, and I’m not here to hurt you, Raylan. I’m here to make it better,” she washed her hands in the sink before approaching the bed. “I’d like to look, no moving or poking around.”  
“Fine,” Raylan grumbled.  
Michelle moved the blanket away from Raylan’s left leg, “You can hit the button for your pain meds if it would make you more comfortable, or I can have the nurse come in and give you something else.”  
“That’d be nice,” Raylan said.  
Michelle pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her brown scrubs, “Yes, room 3535 needs something for pain. Yes, I’m the PT here to see him, and I won’t have him hurting while I work. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and turned back to Raylan, “Your nurse will be here shortly. They usually move faster when I’m around,” she winked, and Raylan decided he liked her.  
“Now, none of this should hurt you because I’m just looking right now. I’ll be moving the bandages out of the way to see where your suture sites are and what nerves might be damaged.” She worked quickly, but her touch was gentle as she peeled the bandages away from his knee. He braced as she exposed the wounds, “Now, Raylan, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”  
“Been lied to before,” he said.  
“I’m not one to lie to my patients,” she said. “It ruins their trust, I promise I will tell you if it’s gonna hurt.”  
Michelle examined him head to toe, Raylan felt his cheeks grow hot as she got to his hip but tried his best to ignore it. The nurse came in shortly after she’d finished, “Mr. Givens, I have something to make you feel better.”  
“Thank you, Sarah,” Michelle smiled as Sarah pushed a syringe full of drugs through Raylan’s IV before leaving.  
“She sure took her damn time,” Michelle muttered once the door closed behind her.  
Raylan’s head swam, the drugs were good and he felt himself drifting until Michelle touched his foot. “Hey, no pain,” she promised. “Just try and relax.” She worked careful circles into the bottom of his foot, applying gentle pressure as she worked her way to his ankle. Raylan sank into the pillows as she got to his calf, unafraid of her touching near his knee, “See, what’d I tell you?”  
“Feels good,” Raylan said drunkenly.  
“I won’t get near the bad parts today, I just want to make sure you’re getting good blood flow before I start working on you,” Michelle smiled.  
“She’s good,” Art said to Raylan.  
“Yeah,” Raylan smiled. “My ex-wife didn’t even do this.”  
“You have to fill out paperwork if you’d like to keep me as your therapist,” Michelle said casually.  
“If you’re gonna keep doin’ that, the answer is yes,” Raylan grinned.  
“I’m reading here that Arthur Mullen is on your list of emergency contacts and can also make decisions for you if you’re unable to make them for yourself, or if you’re drugged to the gills and not one-hundred percent. Am I right?”  
“Yes ma’am,” Raylan said.  
“So, I’ll have you do your best and sign here,” she handed him a pen.  
Raylan’s brain told his hand to write his name, but his fingers wouldn’t listen. He scrawled something across the page, “What’s wrong with me?”  
“Could be the drugs, could be the nerve damage,” Michelle handed the clipboard to Art. “For now his signature will do as long as you consent.”  
“What happened to my hand?” Raylan didn’t see any bandages on his right hand.  
“Your clavicle is broken, meaning your shoulder collapsed and until I start working on you more I won’t know how bad the damage is,” Michelle put her hand on his. “It’s okay, Raylan, we’re gonna get through this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some details have been changed from the series, they're minor and easy to spot. Hope y'all don't mind.

Tim went to the trunk and pulled an armored vest out. He tossed the heavy jacket to Boyd, “What’s this, Timmy?”  
“Don’t call me that,” Tim pulled his own vest over his head.  
“Is this thing even legal?” Boy asked as he secured the straps.  
“Do you care?” Tim snapped.  
“Guess not,” Boyd shrugged. “What’s in this thing?”  
“Bulletproof plates and kevlar,” Tim pulled his favorite rifle from it’s case and chambered a round. “You armed or do you need to borrow some of mine?”  
“I am a convicted felon, Tim,” Boyd started.  
“Shut the hell up,” Tim shoved a gun at him. “It’s loaded and there’s magazines in here,” he pointed to another bag. “I swear to God, Boyd, if you screw me on this I’ll make what these assholes did to Raylan look like a penthouse suite filled with all the best drugs and hookers inside.”  
“Okay, okay,” Boyd said. “What’s the plan?”  
“Go in, kill whoever doesn’t wanna come quietly.”  
—————  
Raylan had passed out sometime after Michelle had started massaging his neck. “He’s a stubborn asshole,” Art said.  
“You said that,” Michelle said.  
“He makes stubborn look friendly,” Art sighed. “But, he likes you. If he wasn’t high as a hippie in a helicopter he’d probably be hittin’ on you.”  
“I’ve dealt with that before too,” Michelle said. “I read his file, I like him and his personality. He’s rough around the edges, and trouble seems to follow him like the seven year itch; but I think he deserves some niceties for once. Insurance doesn’t cover much of therapy, so—“  
“We don’t get paid much, but the guys at the office will pull together so he can get back to as close to normal as possible,“ Art interrupted her.  
Raylan woke up for lunch about an hour later, his head still hurt but not as badly as before. Art had gotten takeout and Michelle sat in the room eating with him. “Smells good,” he said, mouth watering.  
“Got you some of that beef’n’broccoli stuff you like,” Art said over a mouthful of rice.  
“You take an early lunch?” he asked Michelle.  
“No, this is part of your therapy actually.” She pushed her hair out of her face, it was down today and brown curls fell around her shoulders and down her back.  
“Lunch?” Raylan asked.  
“I noticed you had problems signing your paperwork yesterday, so I want to see how well you handle a fork,” Michelle said.  
“You just wanted to have lunch with me,” Raylan cocked his head to the side.  
“Yes, Raylan, I make it a habit of having lunch with my more attractive patients. I flirt with them by wearing these skimpy scrubs,” she stuck her tongue out at him.  
“But you think I’m attractive,” Raylan grinned wolfishly.  
“I didn’t—“ Michelle stumbled over her words.  
Raylan laughed, but it was cut short as his ribs protested. “I was only teasin’.”  
“Sure you were,” Michelle set a plate on the tray in front of him.  
There was a quick rap on the door before a giant hulk of a man in the same brown scrubs as Michelle entered the room, “Dr. Fox?”  
“Yes, Dr. Montgomery, I’m in here,” Michelle stood. “Raylan, this is Dr. Montgomery, he’s the supervisor over the Physical Therapy department.”  
“Good to meet you, Mr. Givens,” Dr. Montgomery nodded. He said Raylan’s last name with an emphasis that said he didn’t like Michelle calling Raylan by his first name.  
“Can I help you?” Raylan asked.  
“I’m here to observe and see what type of therapy to report to your insurance company, how long you’ll be with Dr. Fox if you decide to keep her as your therapist, and what kind of progress we can expect from you,” Dr. Montgomery clicked his pen. “So, if you’re not here eating lunch with Mr. Givens, exactly what are you doing?”  
“Yesterday Mr. Mullen had to sign his paperwork for him, so I wanted to see if he has nerve damage and how severe it is,” Michelle said.  
Raylan was suddenly aware that everyone was staring at him. He concentrated and tried to make his fingers hold the fork, but they were sluggish and his grip was too weak. Pain shot down his arm when he tried to force his hand to obey him.  
“Stop,” Michelle put her hand on Raylan’s. “That’s enough for today, it’s something we’ll have to work on.”  
“Have you tried moving your leg?” Dr. Montgomery said over his clipboard, his pen scratching over the page.  
“Not yet,” Raylan grew uncomfortable. Michelle he liked, Dr. Montgomery had the bedside manner of a cactus.  
“Well, let’s see it,” Dr. Montgomery looked on expectantly.  
“What? You want me to get up and walk?” Raylan asked.  
“If you can,” Dr. Montgomery said.  
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea so early on,” Michelle shook her head. “He just had major surgery a few days ago, passive range of motion is what’s best for now.”  
“Let him try if he wants,” Dr. Montgomery pressed. “Maybe your approach isn’t aggressive enough, Dr. Fox.”  
Raylan pushed himself up to a sitting position, clutching his chest with his other arm. As he shifted, he tried to bring his knee to his chest. He panted with effort and groaned when the pain was too much. “I can’t, hurts too bad.”  
“Let’s try the passive range of motion then. Lie back, Mr. Givens,” Dr. Montgomery instructed. Raylan collapsed back onto the pillows, chest tightening until he could barely breathe. Dr. Montgomery pulled the sheet away from his leg and grasped his ankle firmly. He slid his other hand under Raylan’s knee and began raising his leg off the bed.  
Raylan set his jaw, Dr. Montgomery began pushing his heel towards his thigh and Raylan’s resolve buckled. “Stop,” he held a hand up.  
“It might be painful, but if we don’t move it…”  
“No—dammit stop!” Raylan arched his back, a crackling sound coming from his broken ribs.  
“Stop,” Michelle shooed Dr. Montgomery’s hands away, replacing them with hers. “If he’s in that much pain it’s not doing him any good.” She gently lowered Raylan’s leg onto the bed.  
“Dr. Fox, I’d like a word with you in the hallway,” Dr. Montgomery snapped.  
“Yes sir,” she answered politely.  
—————  
“Now why would you think I’d want to hurt the cowboy?” Markham asked. “I’m an old man, kid, I don’t have time for that kinda bullshit.”  
“You knew we were gettin’ close to catchin’ up with what you’ve been doin’,” Tim growled. “So, when Raylan came to talk to you about giving up, you had your boy over there damn near kill him.”  
“Whatever disagreement Raylan and Choo-choo had has been resolved. They had a chat on the road one evening and things got heated, but I haven’t heard about them butting heads again,” Markham smiled.  
Tim’s mouth turned up in a snarl, “I swear to God I’ll kill every single one of you.”  
“You seem to have some anger in your heart there, kid,” Avery smirked.  
“You have no idea,” Tim smiled.  
“I think we should all take a few steps back,” Boyd said. “Let’s say you did order your boys to rough up Raylan, I’m bettin’ that if you apologized and agreed to get outta Harlan Tim might forget about wantin’ to skin you alive.”  
“Well, let’s just say I was the one who had the cowboy tortured,” Markham leaned forward in his chair, templing his fingers. “What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same to you two for comin’ in here without back up? And Boyd, aren’t you a felon? Seems the boy would get in some serious shit for givin’ you a gun.”  
“I’m done talking, you either come quietly or I’m going to kill everyone in the fucking room,” Tim raised his gun.  
“I think you’re outmanned here, kiddo,” Markham raised a hand, seven large men with an armory of firearms seemed to appear. “Besides, you don’t have a lick of evidence to base your theory on. I didn’t touch your partner, now I’d like it if you’d lower your gun and get the fuck outta my house.”  
“Tim, are you sure you wanna do this?” Boyd asked cautiously. “I’m down for it, but I don’t wanna die today.”  
“I have a better idea,” Tim holstered his gun. “I’m coming back for you, Markham, and I’ll see you pay for what you did the legal way if it’s the last thing I ever do. However, if I can’t put you behind bars, I’m puttin’ your sorry ass in the ground.”  
“Now, what makes you think I’m gonna let you walk out of here?” Markham asked. “You threatened me, threatened my men, and you’re saying you’re gonna see us behind bars? I don’t think so, looks like we’ll have to send another message if you keep this up.”  
“So, you were the one who had Raylan hurt,” Tim accused.  
“I never said that, I’m not stupid, kiddo,” Markham laughed. “But seems here you made the same mistake your partner did. He came in here half-cocked and ready to fight, talked a big game, told me he was gonna see my ass gone or in a cell. I also see that you’ve made an even bigger mistake. You’ve given Crowder a gun and brought no backup.”  
“Shit,” Boyd hung his head as he saw more men coming from the other rooms of the house. “Okay, Timmy, how the hell do we get outta this one?”  
—————  
Art stood by the door, listening to Dr. Montgomery scolding Michelle.  
“The nerve damage is too bad, he can’t even hold a fork to feed himself; and you think he’ll recover?”  
“I want to try, I think I can help him get back some of the function of his hand. Either way, I know I can get him walking again,” Michelle argued.  
“Insurance isn’t gonna pay for this, the amount of time he’d need to be in therapy is too extensive and tax-payer money can be put to better use,” Dr. Montgomery sighed. “No way I can sign off on this, I’m taking you off his case after his recommended therapy is finished. Whatever progress he makes by then is as good as it’s gonna get unless he hires you full-time.”  
“Then I’ll take him on pro bono,” Michelle said defiantly. “I know I can help him, he deserves it.”  
“You don’t even know him!” Dr. Montgomery raised his voice.  
“Life has beaten him down enough, it’s time for him to get some semblance of a break.”  
“I’m not backing you on this one,” Dr. Montgomery snapped.  
“I have PTO saved up,” Michelle said. “I’ll take a few weeks off, the vacation would do me some good. You’re always telling me how I should take my vacation time.”  
“You think this is appropriate?” Dr. Montgomery asked.  
“I’m not sleeping with him, I’m trying to get him some help,” Michelle growled.  
“Fine, you’re on leave. I’ll find someone else to cover your shifts, you’d better hope this is worth it and you’re able to help him.”  
Art couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, and Michelle almost ran into him. “I’m sorry, Art,” she said, her face flustered and blushed. “I’m sure you heard that.”  
“I did,” Art nodded.  
“Don’t tell him,” she pleaded.  
“Yes ma’am,” Art moved aside as she went back to Raylan’s bed.  
“I don’t want you to get discouraged,” she said sweetly. “I have a few tests I can run to see how bad things really are. Dr. Montgomery is very aggressive when he treats patients, I have a more subtle approach.”  
“My hand…” Raylan looked down at his right hand like it didn’t belong to him.  
“I’m going to work with you,” she pulled a cart over with her foot.  
“Tests?” Raylan asked.  
“Yeah, to see how bad the nerve damage is,” she pulled on a pair of gloves. “This one isn’t fun, but it works.”  
“Hey, I gotta step out for a few,” Art pointed to his cell phone. “Raylan, I’ll be back later on.”  
“Any word on Tim?” Raylan asked.  
“Not much of one, gonna go check on him,” Art said.  
“Keep me updated,” Raylan nodded.  
“You got it. Michelle, take care of my boy,” Art gave her a half hug and left.  
“You said this wasn’t fun,” Raylan licked his lips nervously.  
“I need to see what you can feel,” Michelle set a box of acupuncture needles on the bedside tray.  
“Shit,” Raylan breathed.  
“If I sedate you for this it won’t be accurate,” Michelle said. “But most people don’t feel too much pain unless the nerves are inflamed, watch,” she popped one of the blister packs open and pulled a hollow plastic tube with a needle inside of it out. She lined up the needle just below her glove at her wrist and tapped it into her skin. After pulling the tubing away she worked the needle further in, “See, it’s not bad at all and we can start on your arm before we get to your hand if you prefer.”  
“That makes me real nervous, not gonna lie,” Raylan said shakily.  
“If you don’t like it we can stop, I won’t force you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” she reassured him.  
“Screw it, let’s try it,” Raylan’s eyes met hers.


	3. Chapter 3

A bead of sweat trickled down Tim’s face and mixed with the blood from his forehead. Choo-Choo had simply backhanded him and he’d hit the ground, the blows that followed were what it felt like when the hulking man held back. Markham had given clear instruction for him not to injure Tim too badly.  
Tim had just gotten his chest x-rays finished, a nurse was doing her best to convince him to let her stick an IV in his arm and he was doing his best to protest.  
“Gutterson, son, let her do her job,” Art said sternly. When he used Tim’s last name it was an order instead of a suggestion.  
“How’s Raylan?” Tim asked.  
“Michelle’s up there with him, said she’s takin’ him on pro bono. Her boss chewed her ass over it, but what happened to you now that I’ve caught you up on the latest episode involving Raylan.”  
“Markham had Choo-Choo half kill him. I know because he hit me once and I was on the floor,” Tim growled.  
“Do you have any proof?”  
“Boyd was there,” Tim looked around. “Where the hell is Boyd?”  
“He brought you here, he’s probably on his way up to see Raylan,” Art said.  
“That’s comforting,” Tim rolled his eyes.  
“You got some cracked ribs and a nasty cut on your face,” Art said. “Why didn’t you call for back up like I told you?”  
“I wanna get outta here and go see Raylan,” Tim avoided his question.  
“He’s fine, Michelle’s takin’ good care of him,” Art tilted Tim’s chin up to get a better look at his face. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t get your name ma’am,” he said to the nurse. “Let’s get some stitches in this.”  
“He’s refused most—“ she started.  
“Well, he’s gonna stop that shit,” Art shot Tim a hard look.  
—————  
“That’s it,” Michelle encouraged him, “nice and slow.”  
Raylan flexed his fingers, touching the pad of each one to his thumb. “How’d you…?”  
“That’s all you, darlin’,” Michelle smiled. “All I did was poke some needles in you. Did it hurt as bad as you thought it would?”  
“No, I mean hell, it wasn’t relaxing; but it wasn’t bad either,” Raylan smiled.  
“Don’t get overzealous,” Michelle sat on the bed beside him and lay the back of his hand on her thigh. “Hold still while I work these outta there,” she said.  
Raylan’s cheeks flushed, “Thank you.”  
“You hungry?” she asked, working circles in his palm.  
“Yes ma’am,” Raylan tensed as she hit a tender spot.  
“You’ll either have to eat left-handed for a while, or someone’ll have to feed you,” Michelle worked up each finger.  
“I think I can manage,” Raylan sighed.  
“It’ll be touch and go for a while, but I think you’re gonna recover nicely,” Michelle smiled.  
“Other guy said different,” Raylan muttered.  
“I’m willing to spend more time than him,” Michelle said.  
“Insurance covers hospitals and some therapy, but probly not…”  
“Don’t worry about that,” Michelle stopped him.  
“I’m just a deputy Marshal, we’re not exactly made of money.”  
“I’ve taken care of it,” Michelle pulled the bedside table over. “You eat, I have some charting to do. Y’mind if I do it here?”  
“Not at all,” Raylan smiled.  
——————————  
Tim’s head swam pleasantly from the drugs as the nurse stitched him up. “Where’s Raylan?”  
“I told you, Michelle is working with him,” Art reassured him.  
“They’re gonna come after Boyd,” Tim said.  
“Boyd’s here,” Art said. “He’s in the room across the hall. Pretty banged up but not as bad as Raylan, or you for that matter.”  
“Markham wants his money, thinks Raylan knows where it is.”  
“Does he?” Art asked.  
“No, he’d have confiscated it already,” Tim winced as she tied the knot to close the wound.  
“Y’probly got a few broken ribs and a concussion,” Art folded his arms across his chest.  
“They’re gonna kill him,” Tim said. “They’re gonna kill Raylan.”  
“As soon as you get outta here you and I are staying with him.”  
“Gotta get him outta here,” Tim said, drugs pulling at his eyes.  
“You rest, you’re no good to him like this,” Art put a hand on his shoulder. Tim nodded and closed his eyes.  
——————————  
“You’ll need to spend a few more days here to get your O2 levels back up and stabilize. You might be able to go home sooner if you rest,” Michelle finished up her notes and closed her clipboard.  
“Y’seem like you’d shoot straight with me. How bad’s the damage?”  
“You’re gonna need extensive therapy, your pelvis is broken, ribs three through seven broken too, maubrium is cracked, shoulder collapsed, brachial plexus damaged but I don’t know to what extent, and your meniscus is torn with a crack in your femur.”  
“Jesus,” Raylan sank into the pillow. “Am I ever gonna walk again?”  
“If you’re patient and listen to me there’s a good chance of that,” Michelle put a hand on his shoulder.  
“That bastard,” Raylan cursed. “I told him I didn’t know where the damned money was.”  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.  
“Man I’ve been friends with since we were kids, Boyd Crowder, he has money hidden,” Raylan readjusted on the sheets, pain shooting down his back and leg.  
“If it’s too much for you…” Michelle moved the blanket and started rubbing his foot.  
“Most people don’t wanna hear about this typa stuff,” pain was subsiding, he realized she’d pushed the button to deliver more drugs through his IV.  
“Don’t push yourself, I hope that was all right with you,” she worked up his leg to his calf.  
“My ex-wife kept me as drunk as she could when I was in here the last time,” his body kept its tension, but he was trying. “I don’t think you’re like that. She wanted me incoherent.”  
“Doesn’t sound very loving,” Michelle frowned. “I can handle it, you I mean.”  
“You’re different,” Raylan said drunkenly. “She wanted the attention.”  
“I’m here to help and get you better, not make life harder.”  
“‘Ppreciate that,” Raylan smiled, body finally relaxing beneath her touch.  
“So this friend of yours is the one who roughed you up?”  
“No, Boyd and I’ve had our disagreements, but I don’t think he’d try to kill me. Big guy, calls himself Choo-Choo. He hits like a freight train,” Raylan shuddered as he remembered the larger man’s fists. “Choo-Choo’s boss, Markham, wants the money Boyd is hiding.”  
“And this Markham thinks you know where Boyd’s money is,” Michelle finished.  
“Exactly. That and he wants to send the Marshals a message to get off his ass,” Raylan’s hand gripped the sheets. “I can barely feel what you’re doing.”  
“Look down,” Michelle gestured to his hand, Raylan smiled in surprise. “Yesterday you couldn’t move your hand well enough to hold a pen or a fork,” Michelle put her hand on top of his. “I can’t fix everything, there’s no magic wand I can wave and make you better,” she locked eyes with him. “But, I promise I’ll do everything I can for you. We’re gonna get through this together.”  
“I hope you mean that,” Raylan swallowed hard.  
“I’m not your ex-wife. I see a pain in your eyes that I recognize and relate to,” she sat next to him, working on his hand up to his wrist.  
“I come with a lot of shit, you could get hurt if you stick ‘round me,” Raylan lowered his eyes. “Couldn’t live with that.”  
“Y’think I dunno how to use a gun?” she smirked. “I’m no badass, but after I was assaulted gettin’ gas on my way home from class I started packing.”  
“Y’know how to use it?” he asked.  
“Took a buncha classes,” Michelle smiled. “I’m a good shot now.”  
“M’sorry you got hurt,” Raylan said quietly. “They catch the guy?”  
“Ran a rape kit, found his DNA and he went to jail.”  
“He raped you?” Raylan’s eyes hardened.  
“Yeah,” she worked up his forearm.  
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Raylan turned his hand over and rested it on her arm.  
“I’m okay now,” Michelle reassured him.  
“Y’have a new man?”  
“I haven’t dated since I was attacked.”  
Raylan pushed off of the bed with an elbow, “I promise, I won’t hurt you.” He leaned in, despite the aching in his chest, and pulled her arm gently. She put a hand on the bed beside his head, bracing her weight on it.  
“Could be the drugs talkin’,” she breathed. “I don’t want you to do something while you’re outta your head. You shouldn’t be movin’ around this much anyway.”  
“I assure you, I’m in my right mind,” he pressed his lips to hers. She resisted at first; but soon her hand found the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.  
A knock at the door made them both jump, Raylan bit back a yelp as he fell back onto the sheets. “He wouldn’t get off my ass until he got to see you were all right,” Art was saying.  
“Your partner’s here,” Michelle brushed the side of his face with the back of her fingers. “You okay?”  
“Hurts, but yeah,” Raylan tried to gather himself, pressing the button which thankfully made him pleasantly drunk. “Tim?”  
“Ray,” Art pushed his wheelchair beside Raylan’s bed, an IV pole with a bag hung behind him. His face was bruised and swollen, forehead had stitches in it, but he was okay.  
“Shit, Tim,” Raylan cringed. “I tried to tell Art to pull you outta there, I knew it was a trap. Y’okay?”  
“Put a bullet in that sonuvabitch,” Tim smiled.  
“Y’don’t miss,” Raylan returned with a grin of his own.  
“No, he doesn’t,” Art pulled Michelle aside. “I’ll let you two be for a minute while I talk to your therapist. Can I borrow you, Dr. Fox?”  
“Of course, Art. Please, call me Michelle,” she closed the door behind them as they left Raylan and Tim to visit.  
“How’s he doin’?” Art asked.  
“Had some mobility in his hand today,” Michelle said. “Says he can barely feel when I touch his leg though, that’s worse than yesterday. I think there’s a blockage or some nerve damage that’s getting worse.”  
“Any way to fix that?”  
“Surgery,” Michelle sighed. “Which I don’t know if he wants right now. He’s already in a lot of pain, and that surgery is hellaciously painful.”  
“Do you think he’ll ever walk again?” Art asked.  
“If he has this surgery and does what I tell him, there’s a good possibility but I can’t say for sure.”  
“And his reflexes and—“  
“If you’re askin’ me if he’ll ever return to work I don’t know, I’m bringin’ him home after this surgery to work with him one on one.”  
“Y’know he’s been stayin’ in a hotel since things haven’t worked out with his ex-wife?” Art asked.  
“He can come stay with me then,” Michelle set her jaw.  
“He’s stubborn and an ass, y’sure you wanna take that on?”  
“I think you’ll find I’m just as hard-headed.”  
“I think he’ll recover if you’re the one working with him,” Art smiled. “Sorry for grilling you like that.”  
“Don’t apologize, you just want to make sure I’m gonna take care of him. I take it you’re kinda like his dad?”  
“I feel responsible for Raylan,” Art nodded. “He’s a lousy marshal, but a good lawman.”  
“I promised him we’d get through this,” Michelle said.  
“Just know he’s vulnerable, Winona really screwed up his head.”  
“I can handle myself,” Michelle said.  
“I believe you,” Art rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
Michelle reached out and hugged him, “I promise, Chief, I’ll take good care of him.”  
“Tim’s not gonna leave him alone,” Art said. “They’re good for each other, that’s why I put them together.”  
Michelle gave him a squeeze, “Tim is welcome as well, I have a spare room.”  
“Swear to God you’re like an angel,” Art said.  
“Far from it. I’m just one broken person trying to help heal another,” Michelle said with a sadness in her eyes. She turned and went back into Raylan’s room.


	4. Chapter 4

“How’re you boys doin’?” Michelle asked.  
“Better now,” Tim said. “I’ll be stayin’ though.”  
“We’d appreciate the company,” Michelle said. “Can I get a look at you, Tim? Y’don’t mind if I call you Tim, do you?”  
“No ma’am, that’s fine; and yeah, you can check me out if you like.”  
Michelle examined his head, “Sutures look good, nice and neat. Shouldn’t scar too bad if at all, how’s your coordination?”  
“I’m shaky, mostly from the drugs they shoved on me,” Tim grouched.  
“You should go lay on the couch and rest,” Michelle instructed. Tim started to protest, but she held her hand up, “We’re not goin’ anywhere and Raylan’s fine.”  
“I just—“  
“Don’t give me any lip,” Michelle said sternly. “Y’look like you’ve been through a war, now go.”  
Raylan snickered, “She’s persistent, I’d just listen and quit fightin’ her.”  
“Fine,” Tim said defeatedly.  
Art grabbed the handles on his wheelchair and Michelle stopped him, “I’d like to see him take a few steps, see how his balance is.” Art moved his hands and held them up defensively.  
Tim stood, wobbled for a second, but managed to walk to the couch, Michelle following with his IV bag in hand. She hung the bag on the same pole as Raylan’s, “Try and relax and get some rest.”  
“Rachel will be here in a few, she’s gonna be posted outside your door,” Art said. “I gotta get back to the office and try to clean up this mess.”  
“How’s Boyd?” Tim kicked himself for not remembering that Choo Choo had started in on him too.  
“Few broken ribs, cut on his cheek, but nothin’ serious,” Art said. “Don’t be surprised if he comes by.”  
“He got to Boyd?” Raylan frowned.  
“Tim, I’ll let you explain that one,” Art shook his head. “I’m just gonna pretend I don’t know what happened.”  
“What the hell happened?” Raylan asked after Art left.  
“I brought him with me,” Tim said. “Figured we could settle this shit.”  
“So, you went in with Boyd instead of a catch team?” Raylan tried to sit up, but his head swam.  
“I shot Choo Choo for what he did to you,” Tim said. “He’s still on this side of the dirt, but if I see him again that could change.”  
“Jesus, Tim,” Raylan growled. “Coulda gotten yourself killed.”  
“You looked dead when I found you,” Tim shot back. “Y’think I’m gonna let someone get away with tryin’ t’kill my partner?”  
“You’re crazy,” Raylan snickered.  
“Look who’s talkin’,” Tim laughed. He looked to Michelle, “This is the same guy who went off half-cocked to Harlan and got himself shot because he tried to take on the entire Bennett family all by himself.”  
“Sounds like both of you need to rest a while,” Michelle said.  
Another knock at the door, a doctor in a long white lab coat entered, “Mr. Givens?”  
“Raylan,” Raylan rolled his eyes.  
“Alright, Raylan,” the doctor continued as he washed his hands. “I’m Dr. Troy, I’m an orthopedic surgeon. I came to take a look at you, see if I can help your therapist get you moving again. That okay with you?”  
“Yes sir,” Raylan shrugged his good shoulder.  
“So, Dr. Fox, how’s he doing?” Dr. Troy pulled the blanket from Raylan’s leg.  
“He was able to grip with his right hand this morning, though the dexterity is still unknown. He’s got some loss of sensation in his leg that concerns me, I worked on it this morning and he said he barely felt me touching him. Note that I was working the area pretty firmly.”  
“Okay, Raylan, I took a look at your x-rays and I think that Dr. Vinick and I can help. Dr. Vinick is a neurosurgeon, she would be connecting the nerves back together if they were damaged and clearing any blockages. I would reconstruct your knee and put in support pins in your pelvis as needed.”  
“Y’think I could walk again?” Raylan asked.  
“Dr. Fox is very good, if you do what she says and follow her program after surgery I’d say there’s a good chance you’ll recover nicely,” Dr. Troy nodded. “I would advise you to keep in mind that this all depends on what we find when we open you up. This surgery is a painful one and the therapy afterwards is arguably just as bad. You up for this?”  
Raylan looked to Michelle, “I dunno how I’m gonna pay for all this.”  
“Dr. Fox hasn’t—“ Dr. Troy started, but Michelle interrupted him.  
“I’ll go over the paperwork with him, risks included,” she shot Dr. Troy a look. “Can I get a copy of his x-rays and his chart?”  
“Yes ma’am, come with me,” Dr. Troy motioned. “I’ll have her test your sensation in your leg and hip and report to me later, I have a surgery in half an hour.”  
Raylan nodded, confused, “Thank you, Dr. Troy.”  
“Have a good day, Raylan,” Dr. Troy said.  
——————————  
“What was that for?” Dr. Troy asked Michelle.  
“He doesn’t know I’m takin’ his case pro bono,” Michelle said. “I’d rather him not know until I can get him back to his house and start workin’ on him there.”  
“He’s very concerned about the cost,” Dr. Troy said.  
“I’m hoping that’ll motivate him and he’ll make more progress.”  
“You know what you’re doing,” Dr. Troy shrugged. “Just to let you know, I doubt he’ll ever fully recover no matter what I do. I don’t think he’ll ever walk again. His leg’s too busted up.”  
“You do what you do best, and let me do what I do best.”  
“You got it,” Dr. Troy handed her the chart.  
————————  
“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s got much hope I’ll get better,” Raylan told Tim.  
“Y’look like hammered shit,” Tim said.  
“I feel like it,” Raylan frowned. “My leg’s pretty screwed, broken femur, three breaks in my hip…I can’t feel anything most of the time, other than that it just hurts.”  
“She’s good, knows what she’s doin’,” Tim tried to be reassuring.  
“Yeah, she’s real good,” Raylan agreed. “I just don’t know if it’s enough, I don’t think I can be saved.”  
Tim realized Raylan wasn’t just talking about his injuries. Winona had left him again after telling him she could handle being a LEO’s wife, it had devastated him. He’d gotten reckless, like he didn’t care about what happened to him anymore. Now he had an excuse to roll over and give up. “I think you’re wrong,” Tim said. “I think you can, but you gotta try.”  
“If I can’t walk again, Tim, I don’t know…” Raylan felt his eyes water.  
Michelle came back in with a clipboard, “I’ve taken a look at your x-rays with Dr. Troy…Raylan, what’s wrong?”  
“Just hurtin’ real bad,” Raylan wasn’t exactly lying, his body was a mass of aches and pains.  
“Let me see if I can help,” she sat on the bed next to him. “Where’s it hurt the most?”  
“My hip,” Raylan grit his teeth as she pulled the blanket away.  
“I’m not here to make it worse,” Michelle reminded him. “Try not to brace for a pain that might not come.”  
“Dr. Troy said this surgery’s bad,” Raylan said nervously.  
“It is,” Michelle said as she worked a circle into his thigh.  
“How bad?” Raylan asked.  
“You’re scared,” Michelle said. “It’s normal,” she hit a tender spot and his hand groped at hers. “It’ll get better, relax.”  
“Can it hurt worse than this?” he asked.  
“I’ll take care of you. Keep you as comfortable as possible, but our goal is to get you on your feet.”  
“No one thinks that’s possible,” Raylan’s chest burned.  
“Hey,” Michelle glanced at Tim, who was either asleep or faking it very convincingly. “I told you we’d get through this, you just have to trust me.”  
“I’m not good at trust,” Raylan admitted.  
“I’m not either, but you have to take a chance if it means you could get better.” Her fingers worked through the tensed muscles up to his hip, she draped his gown to keep him as covered as possible before putting her hand on his side. “I’m starting here, just below your ribs to get the kinks worked out before surgery if you decide to have it.”  
“When?” he asked.  
“We could schedule for tomorrow. You could be outta here in as little as two days.”  
“I dunno if you noticed, but I don’t exactly have anyone at home to—“  
“You’re comin’ home with me,” Michelle said. “Under the circumstances, Tim’s gonna come spend a few days with me too to keep you safe. You can’t drive to therapy and you’ll need help moving around.”  
“The hospital approved this?” Raylan asked.  
“I volunteered,” Michelle said. “Enough of that, I don’t want you worrying about anything except gettin’ better.” She pulled on a pair of gloves and peeled the bandage from his hip. “I need to find out what you can feel.”  
“This gonna hurt?” Raylan asked in a shaky voice.  
“Not sure, and I don’t wanna lie to you.”  
“Okay,” Raylan swallowed.  
“I want you to tell me if you can feel my finger,” she touched the area around the sutures lightly. “Can you feel that?” Raylan shook his head. “This is gonna get a little personal, can I move the gown?”  
Raylan’s cheeks flushed as he realized he’d be completely exposed. “Yeah, though this isn’t the way I wanted you to see me naked.”  
“Trust me, Raylan, if there was another way to do this I would.”  
“Sure y’would,” he chuckled. “Go ahead.” His smirk turned into pure embarrassment as he realized he was catheterized.  
“So you won’t have to get up, needed that hip immobile so you wouldn’t injure it further,” Michelle ran her fingers along his chest. “You can feel this?”  
“Yeah, no problems there,” Raylan winced as his broken ribs protested.  
“And here?” she trailed her fingers down his stomach.  
“Still good,” Raylan answered.  
“Okay, tell me when you lose feeling,” her hands moved to either side of his stomach, running along his hips.  
“Hurts,” Raylan squirmed.  
“That’s not a bad thing, at least you can feel it,” Michelle said.  
“You stop?” Raylan looked down. Michelle hadn’t stopped, her hands were resting firmly on his injured leg. “I can’t feel that,” he realized.  
“You still have feeling in your…” she gestured.  
“Yeah, he still works,” Raylan swallowed.  
“Okay,” she covered his groin. “I’m going to press kinda firm here, I need to know how bad the nerves are damaged.”  
“M’glad you’re doin’ this and not Dr. Troy,” Raylan said.  
“He’s got a gentle touch,” Michelle said.  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
“Oh,” their eyes met.  
“You gonna pretend we didn’t kiss earlier?” he asked, hurt.  
“No, Raylan, that wasn’t a mistake. I like you, I really do, so I’m tryin’ to treat you and get you back on your feet. That’s why I’m takin’ you home with me to do one on one care.”  
“I was afraid…ouch!” he gasped.  
“So, you can feel that?” she asked.  
“Yes, Jesus Christ, yes, I can feel that and it fuckin’ hurts!” Raylan’s hips came off the bed a little.  
“You just…” Michelle grinned.  
“Good Lord, darlin’! Y’tryin’ t’kill me?” he panted.  
“You just put weight on that leg,” she said excitedly.  
“I’ll be damned,” Raylan said through his teeth.  
“I think you can recover. I believe that you’ll work with me, and you’ll be up and movin’ in a few days,” Michelle kissed his cheek.  
“Call Dr. Troy,” Raylan nuzzled his nose against hers. “Let’s do it.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've done a ton of homework on this fic, and all of it is medically accurate. I'm a medical major, and this has been well-researched.

Raylan used a shaky hand to grip the ink pen, he scrawled on the line to sign for the surgery. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Givens,” Dr. Troy said. “You get some rest.”  
“Hey, doc,” Raylan stopped him.  
“Yes?”  
“I’m gonna do this on one condition,” Raylan licked his lips.  
“What’s that?”  
“She’s there when I’m put under, and then when I wake up,” Raylan set his jaw, preparing for Dr. Troy to argue.  
“Done,” Dr. Troy nodded. “She’s part of staff here, and if she makes you more comfortable we’ll have her in the OR prep room and in recovery. Hell, I’ll let her watch if you’re okay with it. Dr. Fox and I have worked together for years now.”  
“Sounds good,” Raylan relaxed.  
“Okay, any more questions?” Raylan shook his head. “Then I’ll see you bright and early, let’s both get some sleep.”  
Boyd passed Dr. Troy on his way out of Raylan’s room, “Raylan Givens.”  
“Boyd,” Raylan smiled, “just like a cockroach, you’re hard to kill.”  
“You should know, my friend, you’ve done tried on more than one occasion,” Boyd sat in the chair next to Raylan’s bed.  
“Put you in a boot, eh?” Raylan asked.  
“It’s not nearly as fancy as yours, but it’ll do,” Boyd smirked.  
“How’s Timmy-boy?”  
“I’m fine, asshole,” Tim grumbled from the couch.  
“You’re finally awake,” Michelle turned.  
“And who is this lovely lady you’ve got attending to you?” Boyd extended his hand.  
“Michelle Fox, I’m Raylan’s physical therapist,” she shook his hand, blushing when he raised it to his lips to kiss the back of it.  
“They’re not gonna stop until y’all do,” Boyd looked back to Raylan and Tim.  
“Meanin’?” Raylan asked.  
“Markham and his men, they’re gonna keep after the two of y’all until the marshals gets off their ass or they find my vault.”  
“You’re admittin’ y’have a vault then?” Raylan raised an eyebrow.  
“Tim and I’ve been through enough that I’m not too worried about him snitchin’ on me at this point,” Boyd shot a glance at Tim who nodded and shrugged.  
“Besides, I think the three of us are lookin’ a little worse for the wear. None of us are winnin’ any beauty pageants, well except you, little lady.”  
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Crowder,” Michelle rolled her eyes.  
“You two know each other?” Raylan asked.  
“Everybody knows everybody ‘round here,” Michelle said. “I’ve seen him a few times.”  
“Don’t worry, Raylan, she’s all yours,” Boyd bowed his head. “I am a man of the cloth and Ava has spoken for me.”  
“Where is Ava?” Tim asked.  
“She is on her way to come pick me up. I have been discharged back into society.”  
“I feel sorry for society,” Raylan smirked.  
“I’ll take that as a compliment from an old friend.”  
“Take it how y’wanna, but seriously, Boyd,” Raylan’s gaze sobered, “thank you for takin’ care of my partner.”  
“I know you two have a weird bro-mance goin’ on there, and if I let somethin’ happen t’him you’d kill me,” Boyd snickered.  
“You’re right,” Raylan leaned back onto the pillows. “Got surgery in the mornin’.”  
“I’ll be sure to send flowers, and some of Ava’s fried chicken if y’like,” Boyd said.  
“Thanks, Boyd,” Raylan smiled, but Michelle noticed he pressed the button for more pain meds.  
“I won’t keep you, my friend. Just one last thing, y’got someone to take care of you when you leave here?”  
“Tim’s comin’ with me,” Raylan said.  
“I swear if y’hadn’t chased after Ava’s skirt I’d think you two had somethin’ goin’ on,” Boyd laughed. “I’ll get outta your well-groomed hair now, Raylan.”  
“Y’didn’t mention y’knew Boyd,” Raylan said after he’d left. “And where’s Rachel?”  
“I met her on my way back in earlier, she’s outside guardin’ your door,” Michelle said. “And I’ve run into Boyd while I was doin’ pro bono work at the church.”  
“His church?” Raylan asked.  
“No, but he was there.”  
“He’s nothin’ but trouble,” Raylan said.  
“That he is,” Michelle pulled the blankets up to his chest. “You should get some sleep, I know you’re hurtin’.”  
“Y’noticed that, huh?” Raylan glanced at the button in his left hand.  
“Yeah,” she leaned over and kissed his forehead, then froze as she realized Tim was fully awake now. Both of their heads snapped in his direction.  
“Don’t worry, I know.” Tim giggled, “Y’really think y’can keep stuff from me? I wasn’t asleep earlier.”  
“Oh,” Michelle blushed.  
“You won’t get no issues from me, I’m glad you two found each other. Just make my partner better.”  
“I’m doin’ my best.”  
————————  
Sweat formed on his brow as he waited. Michelle had the paperwork out reading off what exactly was going to happen in surgery. “Any questions?” she asked.  
“I’m nervous,” Raylan admitted.  
“I can have the nurse give you something for that,” Michelle put her hand on his.  
“Might help.” Raylan wasn’t just nervous, he was terrified. The surgery was a major one, and Dr. Troy had decided to go ahead and work on his shoulder while they had him under anesthesia and Dr. Vinick was there.  
“Just remember, I’ll be there when you go to sleep and I’ll be there when you wake up,” she reassured him.  
“I know, that’s why I’m doin’ this,” Raylan said.  
“You can count on me.”  
“I hope so,” Raylan said.  
A nurse came in, “Mr. Givens, I’m here to prep you for surgery.”  
“Can he get something to help him relax? He’s a bit nervous,” Michelle asked.  
“Sure, honey,” the nurse stepped outside, passing Tim, Rachel, and Art as they came in.  
“Hey, Ray-Ray,” Art said.  
“Hey, boss,” Raylan said shakily.  
“You were asleep when I got here last night, and I didn’t wanna leave your door just in case,” Rachel said. “You okay?”  
“He’s gonna be fine,” Michelle squeezed his good hand.  
“We’ll see you when you wake up,” Tim said.  
“Yeah, because the first thing I wanna see is you,” Raylan snickered.  
The nurse came back in, “This should help relax you.” She hooked a syringe to his IV port, “We’re gonna change the location of your IV while you’re under, it’s been in there for a few days and we need to give that spot a rest.”  
Raylan’s head grew foggy, “Yes ma’am.”  
“Okay, well the surgeons are scrubbing in. Time for us to take off,” she waved to Tim, Art, and Rachel. “I’ll give you a few minutes before we take him back. Gotta go dispose of this and lock up the med cart.”  
“You’re gonna do great,” Art gave him a gentle hug. “And you,” he turned to Michelle, “take care of my boy.”  
“I’ll see you on the other side,” Tim gave his uninjured shoulder a squeeze.  
“You got this,” Rachel gave him a hug.  
The nurse came back and wheeled Raylan to the operating theater, Michelle went to scrub and get her gown on. Raylan tried to keep his breathing even as the anesthesiologist prepared his cocktail. Michelle returned, mask over her face, “You’re gonna be all right.”  
“I’m scared,” Raylan choked on his words.  
“I know,” she held his hand, “but I’m right here, and these surgeons are the best I know.” She pulled her mask down so he could see her face, “This better?”  
Raylan nodded, then glanced at the man holding the syringe with the sedatives in it. “You ready to go to twighlight, man?”  
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Raylan noticed his hand shaking as Michelle held it.  
“Good, now count backwards from ten for me,” the kid said.  
“Ten, nine, eight…” Raylan never made it to seven. As the sedatives dragged him under he tried to hold onto Michelle’s face.  
————————  
He woke in a fog of excruciating pain. His hand groped the bedsheet for Michelle’s as he struggled to open his eyes. He heard her voice, it sounded miles away.  
“Raylan, you did great,” she was saying. “I’m right here, you’re safe. Don’t fight the nurses.”  
His face twisted, he tried to speak and felt something in his mouth. Panicked he chewed on the tubing and tried to raise his hand to pull it out.  
“Raylan, that’s keeping your oxygen level up,” Michelle held his hand down. “C’mon now, don’t fight. I’m tryin’ to help you.”  
Raylan nodded, a suffocating feeling of weight on his chest made breathing almost unbearably painful, yet his lungs kept filling with air on their own.  
“You had some issues wakin’ up, we kept this in to reduce the stress on your body,” Michelle explained. “That tube is helping you breathe.”  
Raylan shook his head, mind racing and screaming, “Get it out!”  
As if she could read his mind, she said, “We can get it out as soon as your levels are stable.” Raylan squirmed, body unresponsive as he tried to grab at the tube again.  
“C’mon, darlin’,” Michelle held his hand firmly. “I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself.” Raylan finally opened his eyes, her face was next to his. He glanced around, the curtains had been pulled around them and they were almost completely alone. “It’s just me now,” she said. He tried to swallow and choked. “I know, it’s unpleasant.” Raylan nodded, squeezing her hand. “Your sat’s coming up, just a few minutes and we can get that out.” Raylan locked eyes with her, trying to calm himself and let the machine help him breathe. “There we go,” she smiled. “Hey, darlin’, you did great other than not wantin’ to wake up. Y’had me worried there.”  
His eyes watered and nausea settled into his gut. As his body jolted a wave of searing pain shot through him, his teeth clamped on the tubing and a low stifled growl escaped his lips.  
“I need some promethazine in here,” Michelle called. “Hold on, Raylan.”  
Raylan felt something warm going into his veins, his eyes fluttered and he thought he’d pass out. If he was being honest, he was hoping he’d pass out.  
“There, just try and relax,” she was still talking to him and he anchored himself to the sound of her voice. “It’ll be over soon. Your oxygen saturation level is almost high enough for some relief.”  
Raylan focused, letting the machine fill his lungs though his chest burned with each breath. Michelle had stayed true to her word, she had stayed with him the entire time with no signs of leaving. She rubbed the back of his hand to comfort him. “Just a little more,” she coaxed. “Just hold out a little longer.”  
Raylan tried to resist the urge to bite the tubing in his mouth. Minutes felt like hours as Michelle watched his oxygen levels, waiting for them to reach a stable level. “They’re goin’ up too slow for my liking,” she frowned. “I can have the nurse give you somethin’ for the pain, and I know you don’t wanna hear this; but I wanna keep that tube in a while.”  
Raylan shook his head thinking, “Please, God, no…take this out.”  
“I know, darlin’,” she said softly. “I don’t like it either, it hurts me to see you in pain. Lemme get that nurse for you,” she pressed the call button and a nurse appeared. “His sat is up high enough to give him something for the pain. It’s not gonna keep going up if he’s hurtin’ this bad.”  
“Agreed,” the nurse pulled a med cart into their space. She pulled up a syringe of something that Raylan prayed was strong enough to knock him out. “Mr. Givens, you’re gonna feel like you’re falling. I assure you you’re not, just focus on the pretty lady and try to relax.” She pushed the meds, Raylan’s foot twitched as the sensation hit.  
“You’re all right,” Michelle continued. “It’ll stop hurting soon.”  
Raylan’s body relaxed, the pain subsiding to a pleasant numbness though his chest still burned as the machine filled his lungs.  
“That better?” Michelle asked, he nodded slowly. “Good, we’re gonna keep you on oxygen until you’re stable enough and I can start working on you again.”  
A tear slid down the side of his face, blackness overtaking him.  
—————————  
“How is he?” Art wrung his hands outside Raylan’s door.  
“He’s still heavily sedated,” Michelle warned him. “He had some trouble waking up and his oxygen saturation wasn’t comin’ up as fast as I liked. He has a tube that’s helpin’ him breathe, but I should be able to take it out soon.”  
“Jesus,” Tim raked his hands through his hair, wincing as it pulled at the sutures in his forehead.  
“How’d surgery go?” Rachel asked.  
“He did great,” Michelle said. “The damage wasn’t as bad in his knee as we thought once they got in there. I was right there and watched, it was beautifully reconstructed. His hip has several pins, screws, and rods in it; and it’ll be weak for a long time. Shoulder looks good now, I’m confident he’ll regain almost all of his feeling and dexterity in his hand.”  
“Can we see him?” Tim asked.  
“Yeah, c’mon in,” Michelle opened the door. “He’ll be asleep for a while yet.”  
“He looks awful,” Rachel grabbed onto Tim.  
“He’s okay, Rach,” Tim hugged her.  
“How long before the tube comes out?” Art asked.  
“Probably a few hours,” Michelle said. “I don’t want him to have to undergo bein’ intubated while he’s awake so I don’t wanna take it out too soon. I’m just bein’ thorough, I promise.”  
“I trust you, but what’s more important is he trusts you,” Art nodded towards Raylan.


	6. Chapter 6

Michelle’s eyes were heavy, Raylan had been asleep for almost two hours after he’d gotten back into his room. Art and Tim had stayed, Rachel was at her post outside his door and checked in every half hour. Michelle felt herself falling asleep and stood up to stretch.  
“How long you been up?” Tim asked.  
“I was up with him last night,” Michelle yawned. “I didn’t sleep much.”  
“Y’should try to get a nap,” Art said.  
“He’ll be up soon,” she looked fondly at Raylan.  
“How’re his levels?” Art asked.  
“Gettin’ up there, I’ll be able to get respiratory in here to take the tube out when I’m sure his lungs are strong enough to support him. I’m hopin’ that’s before he wakes up.”  
“Good,” Tim stretched his legs out on the couch now that Michelle had gotten up.  
“How’s your head, Tim?” she asked.  
“Itches, hurts sometimes but I’m takin’ some Tylenol for it.”  
Raylan stirred, hand going for his face. “No, no, no,” Michelle grabbed his hand. “Raylan, you can’t take that out yet, darlin’.” His back arched a bit and his tongue tried to push the tubing out of his mouth. He fought her grip, surprisingly strong despite the sedatives. “Raylan, it’s Michelle,” she soothed him, but her grip held his hand down.  
His eyes snapped open, a choking sound in his throat. “Raylan,” Tim was at his other side.  
Raylan struggled as much as he could. “Raylan, I kept my word,” Michelle said firmly, “keep yours, don’t fight me.” Almost instantly he forced himself to relax, focusing on Michelle’s face with pleading eyes. “I’m checkin’ your oxygen levels every five minutes to get that tube outta you as soon as possible.” Raylan blinked and looked around, he cringed when he saw Tim and Art on the other side of his bed.  
“You’re almost there,” Michelle continued. “I think I can go ahead and call respiratory, his saturation’s at ninety-nine. I’d like it to be at one-hundred, but I feel like the tube is freakin’ him out too much. If I have them take this out too soon there’s a chance you’ll need another one. You want it out now, or you wanna wait?” Raylan searched her face, “I think you’ll be fine now, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Raylan nodded, “So, you want it out?” he nodded again. She pulled her phone out, “This is Dr. Fox requesting respiratory to extubate Raylan Givens—-Yes, his O2 is at ninety-nine and I think his lungs are okay now——Thank you, I’ll see you soon.” She turned back to Raylan, “They’re on their way, let’s get that out of you.” Raylan nodded, wishing Tim and Art would leave. He didn’t want them to see him like this.  
“The team will ask you to step out while they remove this,” Michelle said.  
“Thank God,” Raylan thought.  
Within minutes, several respiratory therapists brought in a cart. “Dr. Fox?”  
“Yeah, good to see you Alex,” she nodded. “I think the tube is freakin’ him out, I want it out since his level’s almost at one-hundred.”  
“You got it,” Alex spread a sheet over Raylan’s chest. “Hey there, Mr. Givens, I’m Alex. I’ll be taking this tube out. Gonna suction your lungs before it comes out and that’s pretty uncomfortable, but we’re gonna get through it, okay?” Raylan nodded. “Good deal,” Alex unhooked the ventilator, “Now, I need you to take a few breaths on your own. Good, I think we’re ready.” He hooked an empty syringe to a smaller tube connected to the balloon holding the tubing in his airway. “Okay, this isn’t the fun part, squeeze her hand and try to keep still,” another therapist put a hand on each side of his head to hold it in place. Raylan felt his heart racing. “I’ll do this once to check you don’t have fluid on your lungs, then again and I’ll take the tube out.” Michelle squeezed his hand, though he couldn’t see her anymore.  
Raylan couldn’t see what was happening, he shut his eyes and waited. The suction tubing went down his throat and he choked, “You’re doin’ great,” Michelle was close by.  
“That was the first one,” Alex said. “No fluid on your lungs, this time I’m gonna take it out and I need you to try and cough.” Raylan jolted as the tube went down his throat a second time, stomach heaving. As the tubing passed his lips he coughed involuntarily and squeezed Michelle’s hand to keep from pushing Alex off of him. “It’s out,” Alex put an oxygen mask over his face.  
Raylan turned his head to free himself of the new apparatus. “Let me,” Michelle took the mask from Alex and sat beside Raylan. She put the mask back over his nose and mouth, “Breathe, Raylan, the tube is out.” Raylan leaned into her shoulder, tears running down his face that he couldn’t stop.  
“Good job, we’re done here,” Alex said as he gathered his supplies. “Take good care of him, Dr. Fox.”  
“Will do, Alex,” she said, but her eyes never left Raylan’s. “Just me and you,” she said softly, kissing his forehead. He put his hand on her thigh without realizing it and pulled it away. “You’re fine,” she put her cheek on his forehead. “I told you, we’re gonna get through this.”  
“Th-thank you,” Raylan said weakly.  
“I’m here for you,” Michelle said into his hair. “You’ll probably come home with me tomorrow.”  
“I’d like that,” Raylan said softly, finding his voice.  
————————  
“He’s not safe here,” Art said to Dr. Montgomery.  
“I assure you, our hospital has taken precautions to ensure that no one enters without showing ID, and furthermore you suggesting that—“ Dr. Montgomery started.  
“There are dangerous men that want Raylan dead,” Art interrupted him. “Think they’re gonna tell you who they are?”  
“They cannot bring any weapons into the hospital,” the doctor argued. “Mr. Givens is not ready to care for himself, I believe him leaving would be detrimental.”  
“I will be staying with him and his partner to keep everyone safe,” Michelle said.  
“So, you think him leaving is a good idea?”  
“I think he’d heal better if he didn’t have to worry about thugs comin’ in here to kill him, so yes,” she was firm.  
“I have to insist that—“  
“I’m right here,” Raylan spoke up. “Has anyone besides Michelle asked me what I want?”  
“Mr. Givens, you’re unable to walk. How are you going to take care of yourself?”  
“That comes with therapy if I’m not mistaken, and if I remember correctly you don’t think I’ll ever stand up again. You said I’d be in a wheelchair the rest of my life,” Raylan set his jaw in defiance.  
“Fine, if you wanna leave I’ll get the paperwork; but I’m putting you down as leaving against medical advice,” Dr. Montgomery threw his hands up. “I sure hope you’ve got faith in Dr. Fox.”  
“I do,” Raylan said to his back as he walked out.  
“I can’t promise you I’ll have you runnin’ wind-sprints in a week, but I’ll do everything I can for you,” Michelle said.  
“I know,” Raylan smiled.  
“How’s your pain level?” she asked.  
“Still hurts a lot,” Raylan admitted.  
“Y’sure you’re ready to leave?”  
“I want outta here,” Raylan glanced around nervously. “Art’s right, Markham has a lot of guys he could send after me. Don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”  
“Rachel and Tim are here,” Michelle said. “I don’t mind if you need to stay. The nurse is gonna take that IV out and you’ll have to rely on pills for pain management.”  
“I don’t care, I want out of here.”  
“I actually have a phlebotomy license, I can bring a few drugs if you’re comfortable with me givin’ you injections.”  
“Sweetheart, if you told me I could walk outta here I’d try it.”  
————————  
Getting Raylan into the van proved harder than he’d thought. He hadn’t moved his leg since surgery and Michelle had put a stabilizing brace on him from his stomach to his ankle. He stretched out on the backseat, shoulders resting on Michelle’s lap. Art took the long way to avoid the bumpier backroads on their way to Michelle’s house. Tim sat in the front seat reading a book to keep himself occupied.  
“I’m gonna run home and grab an overnight bag and my guns,” Tim said, looking up from his book.  
“Sounds good.” Michelle ran her hands through Raylan’s hair, his face buried into her shoulder to hide how much he was hurting. “Almost there,” she said softly.  
“Good,” Raylan writhed as the drugs from his IV started wearing off.  
Art pulled into the driveway of a brown log cabin house. “We’re here,” Michelle said. “Tim, help me carry him inside,” she handed Art the keys.  
Tim opened the door and Michelle slid away from Raylan. Tim put Raylan’s uninjured arm over his shoulder, Michelle wrapped her arm around his waist and hooked her other arm under his good knee. “This might be a little rough,” Tim warned.  
“Just hurry,” Raylan was practically panting.  
“Couch in the livin’ room,” Michelle directed Tim to a large sofa. They laid Raylan down and Michelle put a pillow behind his back. “I’ll get you a glass of water to wash these down with,” Michelle went to the kitchen.  
“You okay?” Tim knelt beside Raylan.  
“Hurts,” Raylan cradled his right arm. The doctors had put it in a sling for the trip home but it still throbbed.  
“Here,” Michelle returned with a handful of pain meds and muscle relaxers. “How bad is it? Scale of one to ten?”  
Raylan swallowed the pills, “I’m at a seven or eight.”  
“Y’want one of these?” she held up a black medical bag. “They’re locals.”  
“Locals?” Raylan’s head pounded.  
“Anesthetics,” Michelle said.  
“Yeah,” Raylan leaned his head back and tried to gather himself, rethinking his decision to leave the hospital.  
“Okay, you got it,” Michelle unzipped the case. She pulled clear liquid into one of the syringes. “These hurt, but not for long.”  
“Great,” Raylan groaned.  
“Let’s get this off you,” she unhooked the brace from his hip and moved down to his ankle. Raylan had almost lost his breath, gasping at whatever air he could get into his lungs. Michelle gently pulled the waistband of his sweatpants over his injured hip, “Big stick and it’ll get better.” She palpated for the muscle, “Ready?”  
“Yeah.” Raylan just wanted it to stop. The needle stung his skin, then his leg started going numb. He breathed a small sigh of relief.  
“Gonna put another one in your knee, then we’ll see to your shoulder,” Michelle pulled the brace from beneath him. Another sting at his knee before the pain subsided. “Better?”  
“Yeah,” Raylan licked his lips. “Shoulder’s not too bad.”  
“I’m gonna start workin’ on you while you’re leg is numbed up, you’ll be drunk off those meds in a few too.”  
“Shit,” Raylan cursed as she put a third injection into his shoulder.  
“I know that’s unpleasant, darlin’,” Michelle pulled the sling from beneath his back.  
“Christ,” Raylan held his numbed arm.  
“You wanted outta there,” Art reminded him.  
“I’ll deal,” Raylan said shakily.  
“Let me know when you start feelin’ drunk,” Michelle sat on the floor next to the couch after disposing of the used needle in a sharps container.  
“I’m gonna run home and grab my stuff,” Tim said.  
“I’ll drive you to get your car,” Art offered.  
“Thanks, boss.”  
“We’ll be back in a few hours,” Art said. “No one knows you’re here though.”  
“I know,” Raylan said.  
“I’m not completely defenseless,” Michelle pulled a gun from beneath the table next to the couch.  
“Damn girl, y’know how to use that thing?” Tim asked.  
“Yeah, it’s a full-sized Sig Sauer,” Michelle released the magazine and pulled the slide back. “Wanna see it?”  
“Yeah, I love these things,” Tim inspected the firearm. “Double-stacked, double-action, it’s a heavy trigger too.”  
“I’ve taken classes,” Michelle said. “I’m pretty good with it.”  
“That makes me feel better,” Tim smiled and handed her back her gun.  
She put the magazine back in and chambered a round, “Just in case.”  
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Ray,” Tim said.  
Raylan smiled at the nickname, “Y’bringin’ Alice in Wonderland?”  
“Of course,” Tim grinned. “It’s a classic.”  
“Tim’s got a thing for fairytales,” Raylan explained.  
“I’m a reader myself,” Michelle said.  
When they were alone, Michelle put her hand on Raylan’s. “Y’wanna start with your shoulder or your leg?”  
“Leg hurts the most,” Raylan said. “Start there while the pain meds are workin’.”  
“You got it.” She took off his sock and started rubbing his foot, “Can you feel this?”  
“A little.” She worked up his calf, “Yeah, that hurts.”  
“Need to bend this knee or it’ll lock up.”  
“Shit,” Raylan said nervously.  
“I know,” Michelle lifted his ankle with one hand and stabilized his knee with the other. “I’ll go slow.” Raylan nodded. She pushed his heel towards his hip, Raylan winced.  
“Stop,” he panted.  
“We can hold it here for a bit,” she rubbed the back of his leg.  
“God, it hurts.”  
“I know, but we have to move it.” Raylan nodded again and she pushed a little further. “A few more inches and it’ll be fully flexed.”  
After several painful minutes Raylan looked down, Michelle held his leg in her arms working the muscles as she moved it. “Gettin’ better?” she asked.  
“Yeah,” he was surprised.  
“Can you feel this?” she ran a finger from his heel to his toe.  
His toes curled out of reflex, “Yeah, I can feel it now.”  
“Better blood flow,” she said rubbing the bottom of his foot.  
“Doesn’t hurt as bad.”  
“Good,” Michelle worked up to his thigh beneath his sweatpants. “I’m hopin’ you can feel this too, even if it hurts.”  
“Yup,” Raylan groaned. “And you’re right, it does hurt.”  
“Nerves aren’t damaged as badly as Dr. Montgomery thought then,” she smiled.  
“Hurts like hell,” Raylan bit his lip.  
“Try and relax, I’m gonna work on this for a bit then we’ll move to your shoulder.”  
“So, I get the feelin’ you workin’ on me isn’t settin’ well with the boss-man?”  
“Dr. Montgomery isn’t in favor of it, no,” she admitted. “I took some PTO to be home with you.”  
“PTO?” Raylan asked, confused. “So, you’re not gettin’ paid?”  
Michelle stopped, kicking herself. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out about that. Raylan, I’m takin’ your case on pro bono. So, no, I’m not gettin’ paid by your insurance. It doesn’t cover some of the procedures I think are necessary for you to walk again.”  
“Why?” Raylan asked. “Why are y’doin’ this for me?”  
“Like I said before, I see somethin’ in you that I relate to. You think you’re broken, like no one cares about you.”  
“Ex-wife took everything when she left,” Raylan said. “The house, the cars, hell if I had a dog she’d have probably taken that too. Ran off with a realtor.”  
“I’m not one to run away from a challenge.”  
“And after everything that’s happened to you, y’feel safe bein’ around me?” he raised an eyebrow.  
“No offense, but I don’t think you could get up and hurt me right now even if you wanted to,” Michelle shrugged. “And I’m not afraid of you, you’re afraid of you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tim came back shortly after Michelle had finished working on Raylan’s shoulder. Raylan had fallen asleep from the pain meds, and Tim took up residence in the arm chair facing the door. “You should get some sleep,” he told her.  
“I want a shower first,” she retreated to her bedroom.  
“Hey,” Tim stopped her, “thank you. For what you’re doin’ for Raylan.”  
“Everyone deserves to have someone take a chance on them,” Michelle smiled.  
“I’ll keep him safe, you just get him better.”  
After a shower, Michelle put a fluffy blanket and a pillow on the floor next to the couch beside Raylan so he could reach her if he woke up. Being in a new place could be scary if he woke up and didn’t remember where he was, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and closed her eyes. Tim sat reading across the room, gun on the table next to him.  
“G’night, Tim,” she said, yawning.  
“G’night, Michelle,” he smiled, never looking up from his book.  
Raylan woke with a stiffness in his body he wasn’t accustomed to. When he opened his eyes he’d forgotten where he was, he picked his head up and looked around. Michelle sat up, “Hey there, cowboy.”  
“Mornin’,” Raylan mumbled.  
“Y’feelin alright?” she asked, stretching.  
Raylan realized she’d slept on the floor next to him. “Sore, but it’s bearable.”  
“I’ll get started on some breakfast,” she stood up.  
“Already done,” Tim brought two plates of bacon and eggs to the coffee table. “Hope you don’t mind, I got hungry so I cooked.”  
“Very thoughtful of you,” Michelle grinned. She helped Raylan sit up, propping pillows behind his back.  
“I’m gonna head out for a bit, get some air,” Tim decided some privacy would do them good.  
Raylan picked up the fork, grip still weak. His hand didn’t want to listen to him, but he’d managed enough coordination to at least feed himself.  
“Better than before,” Michelle commented between bites of eggs. “Gonna try and get you on your feet today.”  
“That fast?” Raylan asked.  
“If you don’t start movin’ around y’won’t get any better,” Michelle said.  
“True,” Raylan agreed half-heartedly.  
“I know it’s scary.” Michelle slid her arm under his back and helped him sit up. “How’s the shoulder?”  
“Hurts…like everything else.”  
“We’re gonna start with danglin’ your legs off the couch,” Michelle said. When Raylan nodded she picked up his legs gently and swung them to the front of the couch. Raylan tensed, hip screaming at him. “Shit,” he hissed.  
“Can I move your leg a bit?” she asked.  
“I guess,” he ran his hand through his hair.  
“I’ll stop if you ask me to,” she reassured him.  
“I know,” he sighed. “This isn’t gonna get any easier is it?”  
“‘Fraid not,” Michelle said.  
“Okay, go ahead,” Raylan braced for the pain as she picked up his ankle.  
Instead of moving it immediately she rubbed the bottom of his foot and worked up his calf until he relaxed, “It doesn’t have to be awful.” She stabilized his knee with one hand and picked up his ankle until his leg was straight. “How’s that?”  
“Not too bad,” Raylan admitted.  
“Can you feel it?”  
“Oh yeah,” Raylan grit his teeth. “Feelin’s there.”  
“I’m gonna put it back down and see if you can stand up, put some weight on it.”  
The part Raylan was dreading, “You gonna catch me if I start to fall?”  
“Of course,” she looked up at him and an image of her head in his lap doing unspeakable things to him crossed his mind, his face flushed. She put her arm under his, and looked at him. Their faces were mere inches apart and he could feel her breath on his face, “Y’ready, darlin’?”  
“Not yet,” Raylan leaned in, lips meeting hers. She hesitated, surprised, before deepening the kiss and putting her other hand on the side of his face.  
When they broke, Raylan smiled, “Now, I’m ready.”  
Michelle nodded, standing slowly. Raylan put most of his weight on his good leg, groaning as his leg fully extended. “You got this,” she said encouragingly. Raylan gingerly put weight on his right leg, “Doin’ great.”  
Raylan evened his stance, pain shooting down to his foot. He leaned heavily on Michelle, breathing hard. “Hurts,” he managed.  
“See if you can make it to the chair,” Michelle nodded at the armchair a few feet away.  
Raylan picked up his foot, his leg burned as his thigh flexed, and planted it in front of him. He took a shaky breath before shifting his weight. Agony shot into his back, his knee buckled and he put his hand out to catch himself.  
“I gotcha,” Michelle caught him as he collapsed, never letting him hit the floor. “Easy, y’did good.” She lowered him back onto the couch.  
“I can’t put weight on it,” Raylan panted.  
“It’ll come,” she rubbed his thigh through his pants. “Need to get you into some shorts so I can get access to these muscles.”  
“Please,” he held up a hand, “gimme a minute.”  
“Okay,” she stopped and held his hand. “I won’t push you unless I think you’ll progress. Take a break, rest.”  
“M’gonna fall if I do that again,” Raylan said.  
“Y’think I’m gonna let you fall?”  
“No,” he struggled with the fear welling in his gut.  
“It’ll be difficult, but you’ll get better if we keep tryin’.”  
“I hope so,” Raylan sank onto the pillows. “I’m hopin’ Dr. Montgomery wasn’t right.”  
“Hey,” she knelt beside him,” I’m here to make it better, remember?”  
“I’m beyond hope,” Raylan turned away from her.  
“It’s day one, Raylan,” Michelle twirled her fingers through his hair, moving behind him she lay his head back and started rubbing his temples. By the time she’d worked down to his neck he was almost purring. “I’m not gonna let you give up, that’s not how this works. Because I’m not giving up on you, so you can’t either.”  
He opened his eyes to look at her, “Thank you.”  
A car door shut outside, “Tim’s back.” Michelle said, looking through the window. She opened the door, “Tim, you can put your bags in here.”  
Raylan watched them disappear down the hall, taking in the room for the first time since he’d gotten there. Cream and brown walls with paintings of landscapes hung on them, the living room lead into the kitchen which he could barely see from where he was. “Shit,” he thought, “I wonder where the bathroom is.” The thought of walking to the armchair was far enough, but the bathroom seemed miles away.  
Michelle and Tim returned to the living room, “Hey, where’s your bathroom?”  
“Down the hall to the left,” Michelle said.  
“I can help you,” Tim offered, knowing Raylan had probably suffered enough embarrassment for a lifetime in the last few days.  
“I’d appreciate it, partner,” Raylan stretched his neck. He threw his good arm over Tim’s shoulders.  
“Help me as much as you can,” Tim said, sliding an arm around Raylan’s waist. Raylan stood up, lips pressed together in a thin line.  
“I think he should probably stay closer to the bathroom, after you’re finished take him to the bedroom across the hall,” Michelle said. “Tim, y’need help with him?”  
“I got him,” Tim said. “I can pick him up if I have to.”  
“Just watch his hip,” Michelle mothered.  
“Don’t worry, Ray, I gotcha,” Tim supported most of his weight, Raylan put his injured leg in front of him and shifted his weight. He growled as pain shot up into his back. “C’mon, Ray, I won’t let you fall.”  
Raylan shuffled his good leg in front of him, “Shit.”  
“You’re doin’ great,” Tim said.  
Raylan bit his lip, hard. When he put his bad leg in front of him again he didn’t know if it would hold him. His weight shifted and his vision blurred. He sagged against Tim, a yelp escaping his lips as he fell. Tim scooped him into his arms, letting his injured leg dangle.  
“It’s okay, I told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” Tim carried him to the bathroom.  
Michelle pulled out a copy of his chart, reviewing the x-rays after his surgery. His shoulder was a mess, his leg was worse. She ran a hand through her hair, “What am I gonna do with you?” The bathroom door clicked closed and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was going to be helpful having Tim around, he had a few days off after his run-in with that gangster. Whoever he was, she couldn’t remember his name. She clicked her ink pen and began writing up a treatment plan.  
Tim had to carry Raylan to bed, his partner’s hair damp with sweat from the pain. Raylan was exhausted. “Y’okay?” she asked him.  
“Hurts,” Raylan said, breathless.  
“I think I know what’ll make you feel better,” Michelle went to the bathroom and filled a basin with water. “Y’need to get back to feelin’ like a human. I gotta change those bandages anyway.”  
“Can you work the knot out first?” Raylan groaned.  
“Sure can, darlin’,” Michelle sat the basin on the nightstand. She dipped a cloth into the warm water. “Gotta get these off,” she pulled at the leg of his sweatpants. Raylan groaned at the thought of moving. “You sit back and relax, let me do the work.”  
“You need anything else?” Tim asked from the doorway.  
“Yeah, go grab his meds for me.”  
“Yes ma’am,” Tim nodded.  
Michelle started on his neck, working circles into the pressure points at the base of his skull. She had moved the pillows, and before he knew it his head was resting in her lap. Tim returned with his meds to see Raylan’s eyes closed, soft sounds of relief escaping his lips.  
“Looks like you’re feelin’ better, Ray,” Tim noted.  
“It helps,” Raylan agreed. “She has a gentle touch.”  
“Don’t make no sense to be rough,” she smiled down at Raylan.  
Raylan was practically purring. Tim put his pain meds in Michelle’s palm. Raylan opened an eye when Michelle stopped rubbing his neck. He let her pour the pills into his mouth and leaned up enough to swallow them with some water before settling back onto Michelle’s lap. She worked closer to his shoulder and he stiffened a little.  
“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Michelle brushed his hair out of his face. Raylan relaxed and closed his eyes again. “When the pain meds kick in I’ll work on your shoulder.”  
“I’m gonna run by the office and pick up some files I need to finish up,” Tim said. “You gonna be all right?”  
Raylan nodded slowly, “M’fine.”  
Raylan felt his body numbing soon after Tim left. As Michelle worked her way down to his shoulder he was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t excruciating. “How’s that?” Michelle asked.  
“Not bad. Sore, but tolerable.”  
“Need to get you movin’ a bit,” Michelle worked on his bicep, “while the pain meds have you numbed.”  
Raylan stretched his neck a bit, “Y’think I’ll ever hold a gun again?”  
“If you listen to me you’ll be winnin’ shootin’ competitions like you used to,” she said confidently. “Let’s sit you up and see what we’re workin’ with.”  
Raylan frowned as she moved away from him. She sat him up gingerly and he cradled his injured arm to his chest. The room swam a bit, but she steadied him until he gained his bearings. “Try and raise your arm,” she instructed. “Slowly though.”  
Raylan looked at his hand as if it didn’t belong to his body. He set his jaw and extended his wrist. It was slow going, but he was able to lift his arm a few inches.  
“That’s a real good start,” she encouraged him. “Don’t push it too far yet.” She put her hand at the bend of his arm, “Relax and let me do the work.”  
He found this was more challenging than he’d thought. Unaccustomed to anyone doing anything for him, his muscles still tried to flex as she straightened his elbow. “Stings a bit,” he admitted, biting his lip.  
“Remember I told you I wasn’t going to put you through anything I didn’t think would help,” she paused. “We can stop if it’s too bad.”  
“No,” Raylan swallowed hard. “Do what you need to.”  
Michelle rotated his arm out, he winced and a curse left his lips. “This’ll get easier once the joint capsule’s been stretched a bit. Bullet tore through your rotator cuff, surgeon basically rebuilt your shoulder. He did a good job though.”  
“How long til it gets easier?” he leaned forward to take some pressure off his arm.  
“Few days if you can stand me movin’ it,” Michelle’s eyes never left his sutures to be sure they weren’t being overstretched. “Anything I can do to make it easier, I will.”  
Raylan didn’t know if it was the pain meds, or the fact he hadn’t been touched like this in so long; but he leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “What about this?” she looked up as his lips met hers.


End file.
